


The Idiot's Array

by Camucia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: And She Regrets It, Batuu, Ben Solo is Stuck, But Not Where You Think, Droids Can Come Too, F/M, Jedi Are Useless, Pirates and Scoundrels are Here to Rescue our Idiot Heroes, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rey Does Her PopPop Proud, The New-New Republic Is Useless, World Between Worlds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camucia/pseuds/Camucia
Summary: Wandering in the World Between Worlds, Ben Solo continues to learn that no good deed goes unpunished when he tries to meddle with time in an attempt to console an isolated and fearful Rey. Consequently, he winds up trapped on Batuu half a year before the Battle of Exegol - but with a twist.A fix-it fic rolling with the mess that is TROS without changing a thing, but using as much canon material from places you’d never expect to make it make sense as possible.Or, Solo 2: Grimtaash Day
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	1. PROLOGUE - Moderation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _3._ Wandering in the World Between Worlds, Ben Solo continues to learn that no good deed goes unpunished when he tries to meddle with time in an attempt to console an isolated and fearful Rey. Consequently, he winds up trapped half a year before the Battle of Exegol - but with a twist.
> 
>  _2._ Rey just felt the other half of her soul goes from a vague feeling in the Force to nothing more than an echo. In a final attempt to find Ben, she turns to means some might find... unnatural. 
> 
> _1._ Luckily for both of them, help is on the way in the form of a ragtag group of pirates, droids, scoundrels, and a certain Force-user who’s no stranger to rescues spanning time, space, and the Force.
> 
>  _Let's jam._ A fix-it fic rolling with the mess that is TROS without changing a thing, but using as much canon material from places you’d never expect to make it make sense as possible.
> 
> **Or, Solo 2: Grimtaash Day**
> 
> This first chapter is SUPER deliberately vague. Don't worry, all will make sense later.

The weak light of a cloudy dawn on Takodana cast long, dim shadows across empty tables. A haze of smoke, food, and warm bodies still hung low in the misty air, leaving behind a distinct stench of poor decisions, rowdy people, and perhaps one too many drunken toasts. _These celebrations seem to be shorter and shorter each time,_ Maz thought as she dragged the last misplaced chair back toward the bar. 

The galaxy had moved on. Another threat neutralized, another despot or two eliminated, another resistance, another rebellion. The endless waltz of war, peace, and revolution had seemingly reached yet another coda, but Maz was old enough to know better.

And she also knew that this was all somehow… wrong.

She was no Jedi, but she knew the Force. Whatever happened, whatever chain of events had brought them here - something, somewhere, had gone terribly awry.

With a defeated sigh, Maz took her time gathering the discarded glasses one by one, trying to be quiet as she went. After all, she didn’t want to disturb her only remaining customer’s well-deserved nap. She ran her fingers through the fur on Chewie’s head fondly as she passed him. He was still slumped into the corner where he dozed off in late the previous night. He knew something was wrong too, she could feel it. After all, he had lost more from this last war than most. But judging by the jubilant celebrations of the Resistance and its allies last night, she and Chewie seemed to be the only ones who cared.

A soft hooting interrupted Maz’s thoughts, and made her stand stock-still, nearly dropping the mugs in her hands. Just as she knew the Force, she knew that sound, and what it meant.

She knew that it meant that the Force was, at last, willing to intervene. 

Maz quickly glanced around the room. It didn’t take long to locate the source of the sound - one could hardly miss the white owl with bright green feathers, perched on the back of a barstool. And if the owl didn’t stand out enough on its own, the glowing, cyan butterfly resting on its shoulder would have caught anyone’s attention. 

With trembling fingers, Maz noisily set the cups on a table, causing a half awake grumble to issue from Chewie somewhere behind her. Adjusting her glasses and wiping her hands, she stood up straight with a confidence she didn’t quite have for this situation.

“Well? I know what you are and where you came from. So get on with it, whatever it is you’re here for.”

The owl hooted again, cocking its head to the side. With a labored flutter of broken wings, the butterfly left the owl’s shoulder, struggling to flap its way to the dusty floor just in front of Maz. It fell over just as it reached the ground, seeming to fall over a deceased moth. A beat passed as the butterfly’s wings drooped further and further, its glow seeming to fade and flicker as Maz's heart grew tighter - and then it vanished. It didn’t die, it just simply… _wasn’t._

A mournful cry came from beside her. Chewie had fallen to his knees, his massive furry paw reaching for her hand as he stared down where the butterfly disappeared. That was all the confirmation Maz needed - she wasn't alone in what she had seen. Someone else who knew the signs, someone she _trusted,_ saw what she did.

“Chewie! Maybe, just _maybe-”_ she took in his reaction, reassessing what she just saw. Chewie’s shoulders shook only in grief, the deep sorrow of one who had just lost one family member too many. Maybe it was foolish for her to hope. After all, it was Leia who always talked about the darkness before the dawn, the faith that got you through the coldest nights before the sun - and Leia was gone. Just like Han. Just like Luke. Just like... Maz shook her head, trying to ground herself. One could interpret the symbols and see what they hoped for, what they wanted - with all that had happened, she knew better than to place hope in something so ethereal. But... could it be-?

The moth on the ground flapped itself to life. It seemed panicked, desperate, flying up too hard and too fast, beating its own wings so hard that they started to crumble from the effort. It flew until it couldn’t anymore, falling apart as it went - until it vanished just as the butterfly did.

She felt her heart in her throat as she gripped Chewie’s hand harder to give her confidence in this moment. With everything that had happened, the signs couldn't get more clear than this. Maybe... maybe she was right to hope, after all. Something that vanished - well, it wasn't _dead,_ from a certain point of view. But still...

Maz cut her eyes toward the owl, which was somehow managing to look smug. “Yes, yes. I get it. You didn’t have to be so _blatant,”_ she grumbled. “He's gone. And she will be too, if we don't do something about it. And what do you expect _me_ to do?”

The owl hooted again, softer. Maz felt a great sense of foreboding as a shadow grew longer in from the door frame that led outside the bar. Her fears were proven correct when a white Loth-wolf silently emerged from the dark, its eyes glowing with the same eerie blue of the butterfly. Chewie growled lowly, moving to shield Maz behind him, but she squeezed his paw gently in her hand, signaling him to stay put. The wolf padded softly into the room and came to a halt in front of Maz and Chewie, very deliberately placing one of its paws where the moth had disappeared. It stretched its neck up, seeming to almost smile as it saw the owl. Hooting excitedly, the owl flapped down to perch on the wolf’s snout, raising a single wing -

-

Maz woke with a start, gasping as though she had been running for miles. She was seated at a table, Chewie beside her in a similar state of one who was just startled awake. Looking up at him questioningly, his slow nod was all the confirmation she needed that yes, he just saw all of that too. Maz looked all around them, but there was no sign of wolves, owls, or even butterflies and moths - 

Then she felt a soft beating against her palm.

Slowly, as carefully as she could, Maz opened her cupped hand. It certainly looked like the moth from before, all russet brown on the outside. But as she stretched her palm further open, its wings opened to reveal a beautiful, incandescent blue inside. It flew joyfully up, then came to rest on Chewbacca’s enclosed, furry fingers. Just as delicately as she had, Chewie began to open his paw. Before it could even get all the way open, a glowing blue light burst from between his fingers as a butterfly shot out of his paw. It looked just like the other now, each with an unassuming pattern of brown on the outside, and a glowing, practically cyan inside. The butterflies circled each other round and round Maz and Chewbacca, practically dancing before they flew up and out the open door together.

Maz let out a long, tired breath, glancing to Chewie. He nodded, and reached for her hand again.

“I miss them too. But we know we can find her - she's still living, after all. We’ll need help getting him.”

A low, questioning grumble came from Chewie - he seemed to doubt it was even possible.

“I know who we need, and unfortunately, he’s hard to track down. But I know someone who can.”

Chewie’s response was almost a whine, asking if it _really_ had to be _him._

“Yes. We need Ohnaka.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw shit, here we go again.
> 
> I didn't think I'd do a true fix-it. I expected the worst with TROS, and it didn't disappoint. But you know what? A hot mess of a starting point is certainly a unique writing challenge. This has been sitting in an amorphous draft state since I got out of the theater on that fateful Thursday in December - I knew what I wanted to do, who I wanted to involve, and how I would try to slop this mess of a canon into a singular form - but I didn't know what would precipitate the events.
> 
> Who knew all I needed for motivation was a glowing blue butterfly and a little spherical chibi? Rollout Ben Solo and the Bug Hunters : this fic :: TLJ Visual dictionary screenshot of Ben's calligraphy set : Footnotes.
> 
> Anyway, due to ample time working from home as an art teacher who can't assign anything more complicated than sketches, I've actually prewritten a lot of this. Expect weekly updates. Congrats to anyone who figured out the twist of this fic from the summary alone.


	2. CHAPTER ONE - ENDURANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben struggled with the sheets in his bed before standing on shaky legs, staggering to the viewport on the other side of the room. He slammed the button to open the shade, letting in the warm light of two suns.
> 
> The shuttle had already landed, and hordes of tourists had just disembarked from a Chandrila Star Line cruiser that was stationed just across the starport, clogging up the communal docking bay.
> 
> Batuu. He was on Batuu. Someone on the comm called him Supreme Leader.
> 
> It was half a year before he died.

It was difficult to keep track of time.

That was Ben’s first thought, when he found himself in this… predicament. And really, _‘finding himself’_ was a gracious way of putting it - he didn’t have a body, he couldn’t see, couldn’t taste, couldn’t smell. 

But sometimes, in those hopeful moments between the voids of nothingness, he could feel. He could _hear._ He’d speak, if he could, but he had no mouth, and no way of knowing if she’d hear him.

Rey.

_Ben._

He knew she called for him. Never out loud, however; but Ben didn’t need to hear much to know that as time wore on, the other half of his soul said less and less. _‘We’ll be alright,’ ‘Don’t worry about it,’ ‘Everything is okay,’ ‘I’ll be fine,’ ‘See you later,’ ‘Skywalker-’_ her voice seemed to lose syllables as it lost heart. 

She reached for him, sometimes. Ached for him, as he ached for her. But he couldn’t _do_ anything. He was hardly more than a loose collection of thoughts without corporeal form, a will without a way. All he could do was respond to her reaching out with comfort and reassurance that she wasn’t alone - even if he knew it was a lie. He didn’t die so that his other half, his equal in the Force, would just… waste away. 

And kriff, if that wasn’t frustrating to the point of _boiling rage._

But no, he couldn’t. Fear, anger, hate - if he let himself fall back to those as crutches, he’d lose himself again. That was his constant mantra after coming to this place - _you are Ben Solo. Only Ben Solo._ Peace, serenity, calm - that was what he was supposed to be. He had to seal those unwanted emotions away, erase any evidence of Kylo Ren from where it had scarred his soul. 

Rey didn’t want Kylo Ren. And Kylo Ren had done nothing but make the wrong decisions for the wrong people in service of the wrong side. Kylo Ren was a life wasted, and Ben Solo - well, he supposed Ben Solo pretty much ended up the same way. It was worth it, though - he’d do it all over again if it meant saving Rey. That dark part of himself had to be locked away so that the light could live.

But… if Ben had a body, he’d twist uncomfortably at this train of thought. _But -_ perhaps that very supposition was what trapped him in this odd state, somewhere between life and death, the Living and Cosmic Force, the Dark and the Light.

He was getting a headache just thinking about it-

Wait.

He was getting a headache. _His head throbbed._ Now how could that be if he wasn’t-

Ben was suddenly aware of the smallest, dimmest points of light all around him. He felt tightness in lungs that didn’t exist, and a desire to look around using a neck and eyes that he didn’t have.

How had he got this far? Was it just the thought that completely containing his Dark was perhaps not-

The pinpoints of light got a little brighter, and there were more of them.

Trying to center himself, Ben’s mind raced. Maybe... maybe he couldn’t deny that Kylo Ren was part of him. He had done terrible things as Kylo, yes - but to separate that part of himself was acting as though it never happened, as though it hadn’t shaped him as a person. Where many fallen Jedi had chosen the Dark, it was thrust on him. In many ways, Kylo Ren had shielded the last remains of Ben Solo, keeping him safe for Rey to find. 

He _had_ to accept that he was Kylo Ren. To act as though Ben Solo was an infallible pillar of Light, to deny his Dark, was to give it power. Acknowledging Kylo, accepting that part of him, but _choosing_ the Light-

The lights multiplied, growing brighter and brighter. 

After all, that was his mother's greatest failure with her own son - by trying to deny her biological father, by denying her own Dark, she feared it and gave it power. Power that the Dark gleefully used to manipulate Ben throughout his entire life. Dark that she denied so vehemently that it had no choice but to manifest in Ben, fating him to the very loneliness and isolation that played a large part in his turn.

She feared her own Dark so much she feared him. Leia Organa, unshakable pillar of strength that she was, had been brought to her most base fear by the potential of a ten year old boy. 

Faint lines now streaked through the dark, some creating a distinct path, others veering off and twisting into vague, geometric shapes.

But Ben now knew better. His mother had used her last spark to project her apologies, forgiveness - and most of all her love of him. She let him know how regretted sending him away the moment he left as a little boy. She thought she wasn't strong enough, too close to the Dark to properly care for him the way that the bastion of Light and Jedi and goodness,Luke Skywalker, could. She made sure he knew she wanted him back, even when he was Kylo Ren. She assured him that she forgave him, even when he killed his father. That she _loved_ him, and that her love would make _damn_ sure that her sacrifice, Luke’s sacrifice, Han’s sacrifice - would not be in vain.

Ben felt his heart flutter as the lines and lights grew brighter and brighter.

He _gasped-_

Lungs?

-and immediately had a coughing fit, his hand automatically going to cover his mouth.

Hand. _Mouth._

Ben shot to his suddenly extant feet and staggered forward, trying to get a hold of this situation.

He was naked, for starters. His hand went to his side, where - well, last time he had a body - he knew he had broken several ribs. There wasn’t even a bruise. He should have been covered in filth, blood, and have at least a broken leg, but he was as clean and healthy as he could be. As he looked at the strange, abstract space surrounding him, his hand automatically made to cover himself - he swore he could hear whispering voices all around them, and it made him more than a little self-conscious. 

Ben Solo had no idea what the hell was going on.

Of course, he had read about this concept. The Vergence Scatter, the World Between Worlds, the Netherworld of Unbeing - he snorted at the term, glancing down to his groin, _nether_ was certainly correct - all of them terms for the Chain Worlds Theorem, which he had researched two lifetimes ago in Luke’s school. 

But he was… dead. He had to be, he died in Rey’s arms, after giving her everything he had to bring her back to life. And he couldn’t have ended up in the World Between Worlds - there were only very specific places one could use to enter it, and he hadn’t - 

Ben froze. Exegol - he had been on… Exegol. He was thrown into one of its many fissures that were cracks in existence itself - he pulled himself back out to save Rey, but maybe… Maybe he hadn’t died, so much as _something_ pulled him back _in._

He spun on his heel to face directly behind him for the first time. Immediately, he stepped back, somewhat intimidated. A towering triangle dominated the end of a path directly behind him. It was surrounded in Balc runes - Sith writing, and a symbol that appeared to be a simplified version of the Sith throne, surrounded by crude lightning. There was no doubt - this had to be where he came from. Ben approached the portal, cautiously - surely, it wouldn’t be so easy to just-?

-the second he came within a step of the portal, he was hurtled away, landing directly on his tailbone. 

_“Ow,”_ Ben muttered. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing in his life ever had been.

Headaches, now what would surely become a bruise on his back - for someone who was dead, he was certainly experiencing a lot of physical pain. He grumpily stomped away from the portal, seeing what else this place had to offer.

If the Chain Worlds Theorem was even remotely correct, the only way he’d even have a chance to get back to the living world was through the portal he entered. And that was even if he was alive, which he still wasn’t entirely confident about. But evidently, something else was afoot in the Force, something that wanted him to stay here - and Ben was determined to find out what that was. 

_Ben..._

Rey’s voice seemed to echo from ahead. Ben sprinted, nakedness be damned, until skidding to a halt in front of a circular portal. The center of it wasn’t like the path to Exegol, which appeared transparent, showing the stars behind it - this was a milky white, with a dreamlike scene playing out in front of him.

Ben’s heart seized at the sight of Rey. She was standing at a familiar rusty table, but hunched over, clutching her chest as though it were seizing as well. Her arm was braced on a stack of books, shaking with the effort of keeping her upright. Books and papers scattered on the steel floor of what Ben now recognized was the interior of the Falcon. Rey's usually pristine set of three buns were partially unravelled in the back. From the length of her hair, he could tell that some time had passed since his death, he wondered what she had been doing-

 _“Ben,”_ she whispered brokenly, falling to her knees with a cry. “I can’t - I can’t feel you at _all_ anymore - I-” she gave a raspy sob, a noise one could only make after months of being accustomed to crying instead of speaking- “I can’t help you, I can’t find you if you’re not - if you’re not-”

 _“Rey!”_ Ben shouted, approaching the portal with every intention of bending the Force to his will, breaking whatever “rules” governed this place. 

There was a sense of urgency here. Ben had a distinct feeling through the Force, something telling him this is happening _right now._ Until moments ago, Rey had been feeling him through the Force, and seemed to be researching ways to find him for quite some time. But now, he wasn’t in that space between life and death anymore. He wasn't in her soul anymore. He was… here. 

But where he was didn’t matter. He didn’t die for Rey to live in loneliness and misery. To see her like this, knowing that she had only been isolating herself further and further - this was _agony._ He reached for her - 

-only to be hurtled back once again. The white cleared away from the portal, leaving only twinkling stars behind.

 _“Kriff!_ I get it, all right?” he yelled into the void, rubbing at his coccyx. “Why show me these things if I can’t _do_ anything about them?”

The void said nothing. Ben marched forward along the path, glaring at the stars around him.

“Well? Is this my punishment? This is my payment for my crimes? Fine, do whatever you want to me. I deserve it. But leave. Rey. _Out. Of. THIS!”_

A pause. Ben could hear nothing but his own labored breaths. 

_Why?_ the void seemed to ask.

 _“Because I love her!”_ Ben roared to the stars.

Suddenly, there was a flicker of blue from far further ahead on the path, standing out starkly among the black and white. Ben sprinted toward it, passing dozens of portals on his way - if this was seeing Rey suffering again, he would make someone, _something,_ pay for this somehow-

A butterfly.

A glowing, cyan butterfly that Ben knew he had seen before fluttered about the edge of a portal, then quickly disappeared inside as he approached closer. The portal was dark, with no stars behind it, and now no sign of the butterfly. It was circular, as the previous one was - Ben noted that this one had a pattern of what appeared to be fathiers and ovular, spired buildings all around it. 

Frowning, he approached the portal, wondering why it was neither showing him something nor transparent, as the previous ones had been. It was just… pure, pitch black. It felt… foreboding, wrong - 

A flicker of blue again. But this time, it wasn’t a butterfly.

A jet of blue flame quickly shot _out_ of the portal before retreating inside, somewhat diminished, but clearly rebuilding power. That cold, hollow feeling only amplified - this…. This was _Dark._ Whatever was happening, this was not how one was supposed to access the World Between Worlds.

_“T’kai eecha mah’toh k’ta uma-chii.”_

The words would have been chilling enough on their own. The voice, the voice that recited that dread Balc speech - _that_ shook Ben to his core.

_“T’kai eecha mah’toh k’ta uma-chii!”_

“Rey…”

There was a pause in the rhythm, but the voice continued, sounding pained - _“T-T’kai eecha mah-mah’toh k’ta u-um-uma-chii!”_

“Rey, please - _no-”_

It was.

He could see her now, her now ghostly-pale face illuminated by the blue flames around her. Her hair showed that even more time had now passed, hanging long and loose nearly to her waist. She looked gaunt, drained - Ben knew the toll of the Dark on a body, and it was taking and taking from her.

_“T’KAI EECHA MAH’TOH K’TA UMA-CHII!”_

Blue flame erupted from the portal, pushing Ben back - but this time, he was prepared. He held his hands out in front of him as the power hit him full force. Holding his ground, he breathed deeply and rhythmically. Through the flames, he could feel Rey - her pain, her sorrow, her desperation - but mostly, he could feel _her._

Their Force bond was stronger than it had been since he was alive, and it was in _agony._

She was drawing power from their almost-broken bond, from her own suffering. Ben had to push back with all the devotion and love he possibly could, mend her in the ways only he knew how.

_“Rey! You have to stop this!”_

He had no way of knowing if she could hear him over the roar of the flames and across an entire dimension, but he had to try. The flames died back somewhat, his own power finally taking hold. He held his left hand out, channeling the flames into his right, which he kept right by his heart. Ben staggered forward, pushing the Dark conjured by the Sithspeak back as much as he could. It struggled, creating great churning curls of flame that kept breaking against him like waves. The more he pushed, the more he could see - it was dark through the portal because it was night. Other than Rey, he could hardly see more than charred dirt and dead leaves, cast in an eerie glow blue.

Keeping the giant wave of energy stable was incredibly difficult. The flames were escaping around the edges, and it was utterly draining Ben to make sure it didn’t harm Rey or get out of control again. But it was getting harder and harder to concentrate, especially with Rey so close, she was right there-

Their connection _hummed._ She was almost completely gone to the Dark, but she felt him, and gasped.

_“Ben?”_

“Rey! _Please,_ this isn’t worth it!”

She looked confused, her eyes casting around rapidly as though she couldn’t see him the same way he saw her. _“Ben_ \- I - I think I can - I almost have you-”

“No, Rey - STOP!”

“I just need… _More-”_

Snarling, Ben struggled to maintain the control he had. She couldn’t see him, didn’t seem to hear him - there was only one choice. He pushed even further forward, condensing the energy and flames to a single, powerful ball of blue light between them. He concentrated the power more and more, his fingers trembling with effort - not now, instead of pushing, he had to redirect and _pull._

The energy dissipated more and more as it was pulled through the portal, its power harmlessly becoming one with the surroundings. Ben reached one hand behind him to brace himself with the Force, and the other to pull as much of the energy away from Rey as he could.

He didn’t expect her to come along with it.

For a single moment, a half a breath - Rey’s arm was _yanked_ through the portal and toward Ben. Just as the last of the energy burned down to a single flame, her hand jerked forward, and her fingertips _just_ brushed against his-

Before she was hurtled backwards, and the portal went dark.

But the blue flame remained.

It flickered there in space as menacingly as it could, but it was dying. The last of Rey’s effort in the Dark was here with him, and it seemed - _wrong._ Both its very existence, but also just letting it die like this. Ben cupped his hand around the flame, pulling it to him. 

Through the cold little flame, he could feel… so much. What happened to Rey, what led her there. _Who_ led her there. So much fear, anger, suffering, isolation. He understood now - what he saw was the future. It started the moment he saw her in that little room, clutching at her heart and whispering his name. And now that he had seen it, this future was inevitable. When Ben went from that half-alive state that could only feel and hear to fully manifest in the World Between Worlds, Rey only felt him get ripped away from her. And she was going to go through _anything_ to get him back. With half her soul in pieces, the Dark came easy to her.

Pacing, Ben kept the flame cradled to him. That might have been the future, but he refused for that to be the end of his and Rey’s story.

After all, what would be the point of all of this anyway? He had just now come back to himself, surely there had to be a way out of this. This was the Force, after all. Things didn’t always work in a linear fashion here, they had a way of veering around and making unexpected turns. There _had_ to be some sort of weird, inexplicable mumbo-jumbo that let him help Rey. She would fall to the Dark, she needed him she needed his help to get back out of it, she needed his _love-_

Ben felt a flutter next to his chest. The cold blue flame was gone, and in its place was the blue butterfly again.

He smirked. Weird Force stuff, he _knew_ it.

The butterfly darted around excitedly, seeming to want Ben to follow it. He obliged, following it as it took many turns and twists along the paths. He noted that they passed dozens of portals, and tried to glimpse at the different markings on each one, but the butterfly seemed determined to keep a brisk pace. While thankfully, he didn’t have any more visions of Rey tortured in the Dark, the portals were all blank. He had no idea where this could be leading.

The butterfly finally came to a halt before a portal filled with nothing but cloudy, opaque white. Ben squinted at it, then noted the surrounding designs - they weren’t very useful to identifying the portal as the one for Exegol did, or where Rey was. The depictions were just sort of abstract, craggy spires and squatty, domed buildings.

The portal remained steadfastly blank. No visions of a past mistake, or a new revelation, or a haunting future - just… blank. Ben raised a single, incredulous brow. “Really?” he asked the butterfly.

If butterflies could seem offended, this one managed it. It buffeted Ben’s nose with a wing before very purposefully flying right to the edge, flapping there expectantly.

Taking one last look around him, Ben sighed. In the course of what felt like moments, he had gained a body, seen Rey in a way he never wanted to see her, and now had an impertinent Force-butterfly insisting he pointlessly attempt to cross space and time. 

He was sure he was going to just get hurtled backwards again. That’s what life tended to do to him, anyway.

Ben crossed the threshold, squinting his eyes shut as he went-

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was the smell of crisp, recycled air. Plasteel. Metal.

Ben’s hands automatically went to wipe at his bleary eyes. He squinted around him - standard Upsilon-class shuttle quarters. _His_ shuttle. His shuttle from-

_“Supreme Leader, the scouting party is awaiting your command in the hangar. Would you like for me to convey any orders?”_

He recoiled from the blaring sound from the comm beside him. He struggled with it for a second before pushing down the transmitter. The words fell from his mouth automatically - he had said them before, after all. 

“Tell them to stand by. I wish to oversee this mission personally.”

_“Acknowledged, Supreme Leader.”_

Ben struggled with the sheets in his bed before standing on shaky legs, staggering to the viewport on the other side of the room. He slammed the button to open the shade, letting in the warm light of two suns.

The shuttle had already landed, and hordes of tourists had just disembarked from a Chandrila Star Line cruiser that was stationed just across the starport, clogging up the communal docking bay.

Batuu. He was on Batuu. Someone on the comm called him Supreme Leader.

It was half a year before he died.

But - but he remembered. He remembered _everything._ And he felt… different. And not just mentally - physically, was he…? He dashed to the small washstation, flipping the switch to illuminate the mirror -

His scar was gone.

He stepped away from his own reflection on shaky legs. He looked well-rested - strong, even. He stood a little awkward - probably from his bruised tailbone, thanks to the World Between Worlds. But what Ben knew is that he did _not_ look like this when he was on Batuu.

He remembered this mission. He had looked like a man possessed, desperate to find Rey. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping for ages, and he was short-tempered the entire time, even for him. 

So what Ben knew was that he was somehow in the past, but with his body from the present. This _had_ to be a vision. Maybe he was supposed to notice something he hadn’t before, and when he woke up, he’d be back in the World Between Worlds with some answers. Nodding to himself, he felt himself go through the motions of the day, pulling on his Supreme Leader garments.

Thank the Force for the mask, explaining away his scar would have been problematic.

Ben just… let himself go. This was the first day on Batuu, after all - it wasn’t the day where Hux failed so spectacularly that he was demoted nearly out of existence. He remembered this day vividly - they wouldn’t have stayed on Batuu so long if this day had gone differently.

This day, he saw Rey.

So Ben was content to just play his role as Kylo Ren. Order these troopers, menace these tourists, interrogate this shopkeeper - it was so easy to fall into rhythm. It wasn’t a particularly eventful day apart from seeing Rey, and the whole point of this mission was for him to slip around relatively undetected in order to find the Resistance sympathizers who could give up the location of the base. 

He eagerly tracked the progression of the suns across the sky. If he remembered correctly (which, concerning Rey, of course he did), it was just after high noon that he would see her. He could taunt random passerby for eternity if it meant just getting to see Rey healthy and happy again.

When he felt the heat of the suns from directly overhead, Ben eagerly glanced around the market - 

There she was. 

Just as he remembered, her beautiful face was startled - seeing the mask threw her. He reached out in their connection, but as before, she was trying with all of her might to block him. Unlike how he saw her last, her hair was in three pristine, tightly wound buns, almost as tightly-wound as she felt in the Force. She lingered just a beat too long, her face falling somewhat - that same, crushing, disappointed face he saw on Crait - before dashing away into the crowd, effectively disappearing.

_“They’re here. Call in the other division. Spread out and find the Scavenger!”_ he ordered automatically, even though he knew they wouldn’t find her today.

He made a show of attempting to look for her, and continued through the motions of the day. As the suns began to sink, Ben realized he noticed nothing different. He let the day play out, but had no particular discoveries or new insights. All he had was a sad sort of nostalgia for Rey seeing him as Kylo Ren, nothing more.

Maybe that butterfly would somehow have more insight. As he retreated to his quarters and fell into his bed, his last thoughts before nodding off were that he fully expected to wake up in the World Between Worlds again, and that he’d dearly miss getting to wear clothes again.

* * *

  
  
Crisp, recycled air. Plasteel. Metal.

Ben opened his eyes to see a standard Upsilon-class shuttle ceiling.

His heart was in his throat. Surely the Force wouldn’t be so kind. As far as the Force, his life had been a series of worst possible scenarios. He came into existence only to be manipulated before he could even draw a breath. Only bad things happened to Ben Solo - until Rey, that is. 

There was no way that he would simply be allowed to _start over,_ before everything truly went wrong. That’s not how the Force worked - hell, that’s not how _time_ worked.

_“Supreme Leader, the scouting party is awaiting your command in the hangar. Would you like for me to convey any orders?”_

Kriff.

Well, it wasn’t a _worst_ case scenario. But it still wasn’t how time worked, either.

“Tell them to stand by. I wish to oversee this mission personally.”

_“Acknowledged, Supreme Leader.”_

Batuu. He was still on Batuu.

And it was the same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME TO GRIMTAASH DAY!
> 
> Why yes, yes I am taking advantage of the fact that, CANONICALLY, Galaxy's Edge/Batuu/the Black Spire Outpost not only exists, but exists on the same one-day loop. 
> 
> I published this a little earlier than I intended, because I'm hoping to knock out another chapter in the next several hours here - and I figured this fic deserved a real-sized chapter, too.
> 
> That cover literally exists because I was trying to demo like 20 different things at once for the grand total of 7 out of my 140 students who could actually get the Adobe programs at home, AND successfully get on Zoom. Then some other teacher in my county had her middle school math class on Zoom hijacked by someone who started showing porn, so YEAH, the county ain't doing Zoom anymore. Oh well, I tried.
> 
> Thank you SO much for all of the lovely comments!! I think this is my best comment/kudos/bookmark ratio I've ever had. I'll get to responding on those ASAP.
> 
> Next time - we see how, exactly, Rey ended up cribbing some notes from her PopPop. I'm sure he'd be eternally disappointed that she'd use ABSOLUTE POWAAAAAH to get her boyfriend back.


End file.
